


All of me, really ?

by hazelandglasz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Fluff, Human Derek Hale, Inspired by Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:31:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1775902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little something I thought about because of something that happened to me in the bus ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of me, really ?

It only happens because Stiles is a fucking moron.

Because he took his phone and his Ipod when he left his apartment like a hurricane - he even managed to take his keys and his lunch - but not his headphone.

While he berates himself for such a rookie mistake for about three stops in his morning bus, because the 8.13am bus to his office without a way to conceal the music from that one and the cries from that one is a nightmare, Stiles realizes that it’s actually “Kismet” that he left them at home.

Because without them covering his ears and drowning his brain with Dvorak’s melodies, Stiles catches the hint of a melody.

God knows that he is familiar with that melody - he has listened to every version existing of that song under the Sun, even the Glee one (especially the Glee one, shut up) - and Stiles wonders who is listening to John Legend.

Is it that girl, sitting with more bags than should be authorized so early in the morning ?

Is it that 40-something years old man, keeping his eyes outside and his hands in his pocket?

That teenage girl, with the bobby socks and the pleated skirt?

Stiles’ eyes skim over the thinning crowd of the vehicle, and for a short while, he keeps looking at Him.

At the guy who seems to have adopted the look of a film noir’s villain : stubble covers his cheeks, and he’s dressed in black from head to toe - oops, no, the shirt he’s wearing under his leather jacket is not black : it’s dark grey.

The guy’s all demeanor screams “tough” and at first, Stiles dismisses him from his suspects’ list.

God, his father really influenced more than he thought.

Back to his “case” : Pleated skirt is exiting the bus, and a quick focus lets Stiles know that she’s actually bobbing her head to the Smashing Pumpkins.

Uh.

Kuddos, preppy girl, kuddos.

But that doesn’t tell him who is listening to John Legend - apparently on repeat, because the melody is still in the bus and Stiles knows that it should be over by now.

His list is getting shorter and shorter, until the people who were in the bus to begin with have come out, and there is only one person that has been here from the beginning.

Tough guy.

Stiles looks at the print of the line’s stops above his head, to check how long he still has before his stop, and he smiles to himself.

Still 5 stops, and those ones are usually the ones he uses to fight the Bear King on his phone - terrible traffic this time of the day.

Nonchalantly, Stiles goes to sit closer to the brooding man, his eyes seemingly focused on his phone.

There is only seat between the two of them, and there is no room for doubt now.

Toughie McToughthough is the “culprit”, the one listening to John Legend’s “All of Me” on repeat.

How he manages to keep such a stoic face, Stiles doesn’t know, but in any case, the man is busy scribbling in a notebook, tongue peaking out of his mouth at every turn.

"Fucking adorable," he whispers, unable to keep his lips from stretching into a smile.

To his surprise, the guy tilts his head to the side, looking at him straight in the eyes with raised eyebrows.

Oops.

Slowly, deliberately, the guy pulls the earphones from his ears - oh look at them they’re so _cute_ -, letting the song be even more audible.

_You’re crazy and I’m out of my mind_

_Cause aaaaall of me_

_Loves aaaall of —_

"Are you talking to me?" the guy asks, and Stiles is surprised at how soft it sounds - he expected some growled bass, not a sweet baritone.

"Hm?" he replies when the guy clears his throat. "Oh, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, I mean, get your R’n’B on, I’m out of here anyway, so yeah, buh-bye, have a nice day," he babbles, trying to push his phone back in his pocket as he scrambles to get out of the bus - he’s one stop too early but avoiding a confrontation is worth the walk.

The guy is blinking at him like a dazed owl, and really, Stiles doesn’t need more reason to want to coo at the guy.

Before Stiles can get himself out of this awkward situation he has made for himself, the driver seems to want to participate in his never-ending embarrassment, stepping on the brakes like a madman and sending Stiles flying.

Right in the Guy’s awaiting arms.

The two men share a look, and Stiles really has no control over his mouth.

 _I’m so dizzy, don’t know what hit me,_ he sings, voice not above a whisper but he smiles at his “savior”, his heart already beating a rumba but it somehow manages to beat faster when the other man smiles back.

Jesus christ on a skate, he has bunny teeth. Stiles wants to lick them, and it’s not even a metaphor.

 _But I’ll be alright,_ "right?" the man, who is stacking perfect imperfections by the dozen, asks, a concerned smile on his face as he helps Stiles back to his feet in the moving bus.

"Right," Stiles breathes before looking around and opening wide eyes. "Shit, I gotta go," he says, biting his lower lip before rushing out.

Out of the bus, on the sidewalk, Stiles looks at the bus rolling away with mournful eyes.

Damn.

With a sigh, he turns on the ball of his feet to reach the building where his firm is, and Stiles buries his hands in his pockets.

Where he finds a piece of paper that he didn’t expect, because he never keeps anything in the pockets of his jacket.

Stiles waits to be behind his desk to unfold the piece of paper.

_Hey_

_You’re usually lost in your headphones._

_You like music, I like music_

__Care to exchange musical recommendations?_ _

__D - (408) 555-0879_ _

Stiles is momentarily speechless, before letting a loud whoop.

His phone is in his hand faster than you can say “suck it, past shitty relationships”, and he’s typing a text as quickly as he can.

**_Any music rec for tomorrow?_ **

**_S-_ **

He has the time to start his computer and prepare his morning tea before his phone vibrates in his pocket.

"Phone’s off, Stilinski," Boss Finstock shouts from his desk, and Jesus, does the guy have supersonic ears ?

"Yes Coach," he shouts back, still pulling his phone to read "D“‘s message.

_Ben L’Oncle Soul - do you speak French though?_

_And any rec for me?_

Stiles smiles at his phone before focusing on his screen.

Subtle, D. Very subtle.

**_Tchaikovsky’s Winter daydream, D - it will rock your world_ **

_I doubt it_

**_Trust me on this_   
**

_I think I’m going to regret it but fine, S  
_

_Derek_

Derek? Stiles can dig that. Very regal. Strong.

Hot.

**_Would I make you listen to something less than perfect?_ **

**_Don’t reply to that_ **

**_See you tomorrow, my boss is about to blow a fuse_ **

**_Stiles_ **

Finstock is standing next to him with a massive frown on his face, but Stiles’ phone is under his butt.

"Yes boss?" he asks, turning his most innocent eyes to the older man, and Finstock looks at him suspiciously before walking away.

Just in time for the phone to buzz under Stiles’ ass.

_Looking for it on ITunes_

_See you tomorrow, STILES_

Tomorrow cannot come fast enough - and Stiles will “forget” his headphones again.


End file.
